


Back to School

by MuseiTsuya



Category: Wolverine (Comics), Wolverine (Movies), X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Dad Logan, F/M, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Logan deserves fangs, Logan has some memory in this, Logan is like super animalistic in this, Papa Bear Logan, Rogue is aged down somewhat, Someone stop me, also his eyes are blue, assume he knows nothing about himself, but remembers some bits of wars and secret agent stuff, feral logan, fucking fight me, i always hated how they gave sabertooth proper fangs and not Logan, i know mutant stuff doesn't make sense, i'm gonna try anyway, references to avengers and sokovia accords stuff, romantic relationships are mostly background, set mostly in the original x-men movieverse, this assumes she met Logan when she was like 13, this is me trying to logicify the horribly illogical comicverse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:54:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22084480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuseiTsuya/pseuds/MuseiTsuya
Summary: When Anna-Marie Darkholme accidentally put that cute guy in a coma just by touching him, she did not think her backup plan for being kicked out of her foster home was to hitchhike to Canada, puppy-dog eye her way into a strange mutant's trailer, and then get semi-adopted by him. But here she is.Rogue has now been living under the Wolverine's care for three years.So what happens when the X-men come a knocking?Well, she's a runaway from foster care, living in a country she doesn't technically have a legitimate visa to be in, and her legal guardian may or may not be a blue shape shifting mutant, who keeps trying to get her to come work for a sketchy group called, no joke, 'The Brotherhood of Evil Mutants.' Her educational options are limited.Guess it's back to school time?
Relationships: Jean Grey/Logan (X-Men), Jean Grey/Scott Summers
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30





	1. Enter Red and Slim ft. Cute Death Skin girl and Permanently Pissed off Canadian

Jean and Scott stepped out of their car and faced their destination apprehensively. The old log cabin sitting alone in Middle-of-Nowhere, Canada gave off a strong feeling of wear and tear. The faded paint on the front door was peeling, the drain pipe hung loose, and the long driveway was gray with age. It looked lived in though. The windows were clean, white lace curtains blocking the interior from sight, and bunches of vibrant yellow flowers clustered here and there around the outer wood paneling.  
“How’d she end up here?” Jean muttered, glancing at Scott uncertainly.  
“At least we found her.” Scott answered, as they walked up the cracked driveway, past the neat yard and a gleaming motorcycle, to knock on the front door.

A third, more insistent knock is what finally dragged Rogue out of bed, cursing whoever dared disturb her afternoon nap.  
“Ah’m coming, Ah’m coming!” She yelled irritably, as whoever it was knocked again.  
“What.” She yanked the door open, glaring from under a bed head of auburn hair at the pair in front of her. All she registered at first was red. Red hair, red glasses, an unfamiliar red car in her driveway. But as she scrubbed the sleep from her eyes, the pair swam more clearly into view. A beautiful woman and a stern looking man met her gaze, both seeming a bit startled at her disheveled appearance.  
She ran an irritated hand through her hair and crossed her arms. “This better be important if y'all're interruptin mah nap. Ah have to be at work in an hour.”  
The redhead smiled a little awkwardly, clearly taken aback, either by the strong southern accent, so clearly out of place in the Canadian woods, or the brusque attitude accompanying it. “I’m so sorry to bother you. Are you Miss Anna-Marie Darkholme?”  
Rogue frowned, slowly pulling off one glove. “Who’s askin?”  
“I’m Jean Grey and this is Scott Summers. We represent Charles Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters and we’re here to offer you a place with us. Our headmaster, Charles Xavier, came across you and thinks you’ll do very well with us.” Jean continued, as Rogue’s face furrowed in confusion. She pulled a sleek brochure from her bag and held it out, which Rogue accepted hesitantly with her still-gloved hand.

Jean took a moment to give the girl a thorough once over as she glanced through the brochure. Despite the tentative mid-September warmth, Anna-Marie was covered from neck to toe in miles of green and yellow cloth. The only skin showing aside from her face, was the hand she had ungloved just moments before.  
“No offence to y’all,” Anna-Marie shook her head, dropping the brochure on a table by the door. “but Ah can’t afford a fancy prep school lak this.”  
Scott spoke up. “We have very good assistance programs. Given the right case, we have the resources to offer a full scholarship.” He glanced at Jean before continuing, “And we feel that your unique gifts make you highly suited to the environment we can provide.”  
That one un-gloved hand flashed up between her and the strangers at her door faster than either could blink. Her face twisted with a fierce confidence, as though her bare skin were the loaded gun of a master sniper. “Now, Ah don’t know what y’all might be meanin by any ‘gifts’ and such not, but I reckon y’all best be gettin off mah property, y’hear?”  
Scott held up his hand placatingly, a wary gaze fixed on her empty hand. He knew far better than to judge on appearances. “I apologize, Miss Darkholme. I meant no offense and neither we nor Professor Xavier’s school intend you any harm.”  
“All the same,” Anna-Marie began.  
“Rogue?” A gruff voice cut her off and someone shuffled forward from the dark room behind her. “What’s all the fuckin racket bout?”  
“Didn’t mean tah wake ya, Logan.” She called behind her. “These folks are just leavin out, aren't cha?” She punctuated her statement with a sharp shooing gesture and made to close the door.  
Jean’s hand flashed out, catching the door, as she smiled blindingly into the dark room. “We’re so sorry to disturb you, sir. We came to offer Miss Darkholme a place at Charles Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. The Professor believes she would fit in very well with us and we are prepared to offer a scholarship that suits your needs.”  
“Oh?” The deep voice rumbled through the little house, sounding more like a growl than anything else. “And what did Miss Darkholme have to say on the matter?”  
“Ah told them to shove off, Ah did.” She crossed her arms petulantly at his sarcastic tone.  
“Well, you heard the lady.” Twin pinpricks of light appeared over Rogue’s shoulder. They gleamed golden-green in the gloom, strangely wide and shiny, like animal eyes. Jean and Scott exchanged a tense look. “She ain’t interested.”  
The animalistic reflections sharpened into blue irises as a man strolled into the light, yawning disinterestedly. He was very short, shorter even than Anna-Marie, who couldn’t have been any older than mid-teens, but one step into the light and he had already filled the entire space. Even disregarding his massive muscles and a solid stance that spoke of experience, the man practically oozed a confidence that set Scott on edge. He watched each movement closely; that casual stroll hid a predatory nature.  
A bare moment later and the man had stepped smoothly in front of Rogue, hands in his old jeans pockets, dog tags clanking on his bare chest. “Get lost.”  
This time when he spoke, his words were barely distinguishable, a thick growl rolling through his chest in an unsettlingly inhuman way. His lips curled back in a snarl, revealing the vicious fangs clamped around his half smoked cigar.  
Jean didn’t so much as blink. “I understand your hesitance Mr -Logan was it?- and we appreciate your concern for Miss Darkholme. However, before you dismiss us out of hand, please consider what we have to offer.”  
Logan grinned up at her, slightly taken aback. “Damn, I like you, Red. Nice attitude. Go on then, impress me.” He leaned against the door frame, still maintaining his firm position between Rogue and the pair, but the tension eased back, like everyone had just let out a breath.  
“Thank you.” Jean smiled. “I think we can speak frankly with each other, Mr. Logan. Scott and I represent Charles Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, which is, in fact, a school and a safe haven for mutants of all types, ages, and backgrounds. We offer full room, board, and elementary through high school education for mutants, such as Miss Darkholme, who have no one else supporting them.”  
Jean paused when Logan raised an eyebrow. “Of course, we were not aware she had come under your care. We, as mutants ourselves, understand the difficulty with trusting large groups and have programs set up, allowing for probationary periods to see how you fit in, long term apartment areas for guardians who need to stay near their charges, and even out-student programs.”  
“Damn, she is selling it.” Logan laughed, elbowing Rogue. “But, the little missy said no, and until she’s had a fair chance to think it over, I spect you lot to leave us be, yeah?” He turned hard eyes on the pair.  
“That’s reasonable.” Scott chimed in, holding out a hand. Logan raised an eyebrow.  
“Can’t remember the last time anyone accused me of that, Slim.” He ignored the hand, dropping his cigar on the porch and grinding it under his boot.  
Jean snorted and pulled a business card from her wallet, passing it over Logan’s shoulder to Rogue. “My number and the school’s number are on there. If you’d like more information, have any questions, or would like to schedule a time to come shadow, please give me a call. I’m always available.”  
“Okay…” Rogue bit her lip thoughtfully, glancing down at the glossy brochure resting innocently by the door. “I’ll think about it.”  
“That’s enough chatter, doncha think, darlin?” Logan glanced up at her. “Didn’t cha have work today? Like, right now.”  
“Oh, shit!” Rogue startled, bolting back into the dim house.  
“Now that the kid’s out the way,” Logan swung the door shut, stepping out fully into the porch. His glare returned full force, teeth bared, eyes hard. “I’ve heard of this school afore. Nothin but good tales from the mutants who been through there, good staff, good schoolin, safe environment. I ain’t got no issue with it if the missy recons she’d like to give it a go.” He found Scott’s gaze behind his red lenses and held it. “What I do got an issue with, is yon Professor of yours and that weird ass frenemy shit he’s got going on with the most dangerous mutant terrorist on the planet.”  
Jean opened her mouth to protest, but Logan held up a hand. “Now I ain’t lookin to stop nobody from doin any sorta dumbass shit. Y’all’re adults, figure out your own crap. What I do ‘spect you lot to bear in mind is that if Rogue is in your care, even if it’s just teachers to student stuff, and I catch so much as a whisper that you got her involved against her will in your X-men bullshit,” he snarled fiercely. Slowly, slowly, with a terrible metal on bone scraping sound, three, foot-long blades cut through the flesh of one hand to point, dripping his own blood, at Jean and Scott. “I’ll spit you and roast you over the fire when I burn your pretty school down. We understand each other?”  
“Perfectly.” Jean held his gaze, and extended her hand, another business card in her grasp. “My number. If you need anything.”  
Logan grinned, the claws sliding back into his arm with a sickeningly slick, snikt! “I really like you, Red. You’ll probably do the kid some good.” He took the card, blood still dripping from now-nonexistent wounds.  
“Jean.” She corrected. “Jean Grey.”  
“Right then, Jeannie-o.” Logan drew the name out, casting a quick, nasty smirk at Scott’s sour expression. Her scent was all over the stiff prick. He swung the door open and stepped back inside. The darker interior quickly lent a backlit golden-green glow to where the fading sunlight struck his eyes. “Catch you next time.”  
With the light glowing in his eyes and glinting over a fanged grin, and blood caked on his knuckles, that throw away phrase sounded frighteningly literal.

“He’s a massive asshole.” Scott snapped uncharacteristically. “Couldn’t get a word in edgewise over him flirting with Jean and threatening to murder me.”  
“Now, Scott,” Jean placated, struggling to suppress an amused grin. “If I recall correctly, he threatened to murder both of us.”  
“How is that better?!” Scott threw his hands up, practically vibrating with irritation.  
“They are something of an odd pair.” She addressed the Professor, ignoring Scott’s twitching eyebrow. “He definitely doesn’t seem like the type to take in a child, but his feelings towards her felt very genuine. Kind, concerned, probably a bit too overprotective. If she comes, he will follow.”  
“I’m suddenly feeling the urge to strongly recommend the out-student program.” Scott muttered.  
The Professor raised an eyebrow. “How unlike you, Scott. This is hardly the first time you’ve had a confrontation with an overprotective guardian.”  
Scott winced, scratching the back of his head nervously. “Sorry, Professor, he really put me on edge.”  
“He has a very unique mutation.” Jean interjected musingly. “Possibly the only feral type I’ve seen aside from Hank and Sabertooth. He expressed strongly instinctual animal-like behaviors and seems to possess a very aggressive healing factor.”  
Xavier leaned forward. “How aggressive?”  
“He produced three blades from his hand when he threatened us. After he retracted them, the wounds they caused breaking through his knuckles healed in less than a second.” Jean pointed to the spaces between her own knuckles to demonstrate.  
“Intriguing.” Xavier leaned back again. “That might actually explain your discomfort with him, Scott. From that description alone, his mutation seems to be the fundamental opposite of your own. Feral type mutations are so rare due to the evolutionary nature of the x-gene. Many offensive abilities, like yours, have evolved to be long range and precise in nature, a response to our environment gravitating toward massive scale warfare. If his natural behaviors express as animalistic and unfamiliar, you naturally recognize him as unpredictable and a potential threat. That is nothing more than your survival instincts cautioning you around an unknown, and nothing to be ashamed of.” Xavier smiled gently at his pupils. “It is only our response to such feelings, and the control we express over our base instincts that separates us from animals.”  
“Yes, Professor.” The pair responded in unison.  
He nodded, before continuing. “From the sound of things, Miss Darkholme can be persuaded to attend. An out-student program might be the best option for her, since she already appears to be used to living on her own. Forcing school regulations on her right now may be counterproductive, but she would definitely benefit from a peer environment.”  
“And finishing high school.” Jean chimed in.  
Xavier smiled. “But of course. The more well educated, socially functional mutants out there, the better. With that in mind, Jean, I’d like you to make Miss Darkholme your first priority. You are relieved of any other non-school related duties for the time being. Please make yourself available to help her.”  
“Yes sir!” Jean mock saluted, deeply pleased with her assignment. Anna-Marie’s jumpy defensiveness and clear discomfort with the discussion of mutants left Jean with a bad taste in her mouth. She clearly needed a mutant-positive environment and Jean could offer her that.  
“Just be careful of Dog-Man.” Scott nudged her, his concerned expression belaying his sarcastic tone.  
“Don’t worry, Scott,” Jean chuckled. “I’m sure he’s not that dangerous.”

Logan jerked his fist sideways, severing the deer’s head with one final, firm slash.  
“You're not hanging that on mah wall.” Rogue wrinkled her nose, standing a safe distance away from the blood splatter.  
He chuckled, picking the head up by one half-grown antler. “It’s for the pack up the ridge.” He pointed north. “The alpha female’s just had pups and I got no use for the head,” he paused. “Outside of certain situations. Never hurts to keep positive relations with the locals. ‘Sides, I’d hate to see it go to waste.”  
Rogue raised an eyebrow at the deer carcass; all that remained of Logan’s thorough field butchering were bones and scraps, hardly enough for a few ravens. He’d even packed the organs up; whatever he was using those for later, she really didn’t want to know. “Yeah, cause you’re so wasteful.”  
Logan shrugged, squeezing the head into a bag and tossing it into the back of the truck beside the coolers full of deer meat and parts. “Bet I won’t be hearing no grumblin bout how long I take come winter when you got hot venison stew and a pelt lined coat keepin your ungrateful little ass from freezin.”  
Rogue lit up like a storefront at Christmas, squealing in delight. “You’re makin me a coat?”  
“You think you’re gonna survive out here in that bullshit little down-puff thing you got?” He shook his head, walking around to unlock the truck. “Southern gals, I swear, let me catch you out here half-froze when it hits -30 and then you can say somethin bout how long I take butcherin.”  
“Aw, c'mon Logan, don’t be a grouch. Ah wasn’t complainin that much.” She giggled, dancing up behind him, too excited at the prospect of a homemade coat to pay his daily griping any mind.  
He scoffed, opening and closing his hand in a yammering gesture. “Logan, hurry up. Logan, that’s nasty. Logan, I’m cold. Logan, ew, don’t touch its organs!” He put on a shrill pantomime of her voice, butchering her Southern accent.  
“How dare yah!” Rogue gasped, hitting his shoulder in mock affront.  
Logan chuckled throatily, sliding into the front seat and starting the truck. “Get in, Stripes, or I’ll leave without cha.”  
“You wouldn’t dare!” She ran around to the passenger side, closing the door quickly. “You’d be eating nothin but burnt steak for a week.”  
He rubbed the stubble on his jaw in fake contemplation. “Aye, yah got me there. Guessin I’ll just have to dye that jacket o’ yours hot pink.”  
His bellowing laughter hung in the clearing as the truck pulled away, Rogue’s affronted gasp at such a thought lost in the sound of his mirth.


	2. The American Government is NOT a Criminal Organization Unlike in the Comics???!!?

“So, whatcha think bout all that from yesterday?” Logan called from where he sat, scraping the skin of his fresh deer pelt.  
“Bout what?” Rogue called back, the chopping sounds from the kitchen pausing.  
“Don’t get coy, you know what I mean.”  
Rogue sighed, resuming slicing the side of venison. “Ah don’t know what tah think. Sounds real nice, tah be sure. Ah would love to finish up high school, maybe get some higher schoolin, get a better job. Runnin way from home don’t ‘xactly allow fer school record transfers. And no offense, Logan, but cha ain’t mah legal guardian, so yer no help ‘t’all.”  
“None taken.” Logan waved the massive blade in his hand flippantly, not even glancing up from his work.  
“So it sure sounds mighty fine.” She set the knife down and pulled off the kitchen gloves, moving to stand in the doorway, facing him. “What’chu think?”  
“What I think don’t matter much of anything, girly. It’s yer decision.” He continued scraping the hide. “But if yer lookin fer advice, I wouldn’t have any issues if ya wanted to go. I’ve heard good things bout their little crew. They fly round in that ridiculous plane of theirs offerin board and schoolin to mutants who don’t got nowhere else to go.” He shrugged. “If they’d found you afore you thought it was smart to hitchhike cross the country in a strange man’s car, you’d probably already be with them.”  
“So I should do it.” Rogue bit her lip, nervously shuffling her feet. She didn't smell very happy about the idea.  
“Like I said, it’s yer decision. You said you wanted the schoolin and it’ll be all mutants. Whatcha got to be nervous bout?”  
“Well, Ah mean,” she looked at the floor, getting quieter with each word. “Ya know Ah ain’t ‘xactly safe tah be round.”  
Logan looked up, raising an eyebrow. “And an entire school of hormone fueled, super powered kids are?”  
She glared halfheartedly, mumbling under her breath. “Ya know what Ah mean.”  
“Why’s this bothering ya now? Ya haven’t been givin it much thought recently.”  
“Course Ah have.”  
“Oh, really?” Logan stood, wiping his hands on a rag. “Then what’s this, little missy?” He reached out and took her bare hand in his, lacing their fingers and raising them to eye level.  
“That’s different.” She tugged weakly at their connection, but didn’t make much of an effort. He’d let go when he wanted to. “mah powers don’t affect yah the same way, yah know tha’. And then when they start to, yah bounce right back.”  
“Very true.” Logan shrugged. The draining tug of her absorbent skin wouldn’t even slow him down, long past the time it would have killed anyone else. “But yer real careful; if yah weren’t then how’ve ya gone near a year at the restaurant without any trouble?”  
“Ah know, Ah know. But this feels different. Ah don’t wanna cause nobody no trouble, ‘specially nice folks like them.”  
Logen let go with an annoyed grunt. “Rogue, ya know the X-men, right?”  
“Ah’d haveta be livin under a rock not ta.”  
“Well, this ain’t really public knowledge outside the school itself and a few government agencies I’d really like to avoid, but the X-men run direct out of Xavier’s school.”  
“Really?” Rogue finally looked up, her face brightening instantly. “But Ah thought they were the big leagues, like tha mutant Avengers or somethin?”  
Logan chuckled, wrinkling his nose at the sudden dopamine spike leaching into her sweat. “Kinda are I guess, only their ‘prime directive’ or whatever, is helping mutants. Girly, if they couldn’t handle dangerous mutations, they wouldn’t’ve gotten themselves into all this in the first place.”  
She didn’t even seem to be listening anymore, her eyes practically sparkling with delight. “The X-men! Oh, mah word, that is so cool! No doubts such big shots can handle lil ol’ me. Oh! Will Ah get to join? Is that what tha school’s for, trainin for tha X-men?”  
“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” Logan shucked her on the head. “You’ve gotta be over eighteen to join up and sixteen to become a trainee. And they require four years of their ability control program or equivalent before that.”  
Rogue wilted, her lips poofing out in a spectacular pout. “Tha’s no fun!”  
“What’d you expect, Stripes? Them to toss kids out on the battlefield just like that? Havin superpowers don’t mean ya know how to fight with em. They go up gainst some crazy stuff.”  
Logical explanations did nothing to dampen her pout. “How’d’yah know so much bout all this anyway?”  
Logan shrugged, walking back over to his half scraped deer pelt. “Been round awhile. Like to keep an eye on those kinda groups. Do some recon every couple years, see what’s up. They’re a fine buncha mutants, act the right sorta way, just not my kinda people. You’d do right fine there, I think.”  
“What, am Ah not yer kinda people?” She crossed her arms, that damnable pout still going full force.  
“Not what I said, kid.” He rolled his eyes, waving her away with the huge carving knife. “I reckon you oughta give that Jeannie lady a call, see what they gotta offer. You don’t like it, you don’t gotta go.”  
“All right. Might as well, Ah guess.” Rogue headed back into the kitchen, the chopping sounds resuming after a moment. 

Jean startled awake, groping blindly for her phone. Blinking blearily at the bright display, she groaned. The number was unknown. If she got one more hate call, she was going to burst a vein. She was seriously starting to regret posting her number on their website as the official X-men liaison, work phone or no.  
“Hello, Jean Grey.” She mumbled groggily.  
“Ah, g’morning, Miz Grey.”  
Jean bolted upright, now very awake. “Miss Darkholme! What a pleasant surprise! It’s wonderful to hear from you; how are you?”  
“Ah’m fine, thanks. Didn’t mean tah wake yah, Ah’ve got an early shift today, but Logan reckoned I oughta call yah afore y’all forgot Ah existed.”  
“Nonsense, it’s only been a few days. You’re welcome to take all the time you need to think things over.”  
“Well, Ah ‘ppreciate that, but Ah’m thinkin Ah might like to hear a bit more, maybe come by tah see y’all some time soon?”  
Jean silently punched the air. “We’d be delighted, Miss Darkholme. Do you have any questions I can answer now? Any dates in mind for when you might like to visit?”  
“Well, Ah hadn’t really gotten tha’ far in the plannin, but Ah was wonderin bout somethin. See, Ah’m not really in contact with mah legal guardian yah know, and Ah’m not all that sure bout how to get mah transcripts from mah previous school or…” She trailed off awkwardly.  
“Don’t worry about that at all.” Jean said firmly. “We’ll contact your previous school and have them send your transcript over. We work directly with government social services and while you attend our school, we take honorary guardianship of any underage students. This is a school wide policy, as we are a boarding school and teach a wide range of students.”  
Though that was part of it, the real reason for the honorary guardianship granted during attendance, was that a significant portion of the students were runaways or had been abandoned. Jean scowled, wondering darkly what had forced the young girl into such a situation, tempted as always to hunt down the bigoted, neglectful parents and make them regret their life decisions.  
“Social services?” Now she sounded nervous. “Y’all won’t be contactin nobody, will yah?”  
“Due to the current political climate surrounding our school’s particular clientele, we have reached an agreement with certain parties. In exchange for some no-strings-attached government funding and certain liberties in taking guardianship of displaced children, we, as a group, agree to meet government standards of education and care and abide by the Amended Sokovia Accords.”  
“Wow, Ah always thought, tha X-men and such didn’t get ‘long with those folks.”  
“A common misunderstanding, due to past altercations. I’m sure you’ve heard of some of the rogue groups that broke off from the government and committed horrible atrocities, human rights violations, against mutant humans on the basis of discrimination and fear mongering. Our current government never sanctioned or approved of such treatment of mutants.  
Now, that’s not saying anything about past leaders or past decisions, far from it, but in recent years, we have made great strides towards equal rights and improved mutant social standing. Our cooperation with the government has been a massive part of making that happen. We provide a positive, pro-integration influence on the growing mutant population and lend our help to groups such as the Avengers and SHIELD in national or planetary threatening situations. In turn, we have been able to interfere with unfair treatment towards mutant humans in the workplace, the court of law, and social services.  
Nothing is perfect, and I’m sure our difficulties will go on for years to come. You can see as much when looking at the struggles of LGBTQ+ and Non-white communities, still being refused rights and equal treatment even today, hundreds of years after their fights began; and our fight is barely a century old. But we are making progress. For us, the first step towards helping every mutant human, is ensuring that our children are fully educated and integrated into society, allowing for the normalization of mutant presences in the public eye and the spread of our pro-integration and cooperation beliefs. That is why our first and foremost goal is finding and helping every disadvantaged and unsupported mutant human, children especially.”  
“Wow, yah really know how’t make a sales pitch, don’t’cha, Miz Grey?”  
Jean laughed. “I do tend to get a bit passionate on the subject. I’ve been with Professor Xavier since I was 10 years old and I got my masters degree in human rights. I truly believe in what we’re doing.”  
“Sounds it. And Ah’m interested. But it’s been a solid minute since Ah’ve been tah school, yah see, and Logan’d eat just bout nothin but deer meat if I ain’t round, so Ah mean, Ah just ain’t so sure bout this whole boardin school thing.” She trailed off.  
“Of course.” Jean reassured. “We try to be as accommodating as possible, especially for our older students. We have internet only programs for students who can’t leave home. Most of the work is done outside class. Once a week, you’d video call in during each of your classes, to get the in-person instruction or take any tests. If you live close by, we prefer you come in person, but it’s not a requirement. These programs are designed specifically for out of state or out of country students. If you decide to stay in Canada with Mr. Logan, this would be your best option.  
But we also have part time, full time, live in, out student, and probationary tracts. We’re in the midst of expanding our vocational education options as well. Currently, we partner with our local community college, but with our ever growing student body and evolving needs, we’ve begun construction on an additional building and begun the hiring process to allow some vocational courses to be taught on campus. I am confident we’ll be able to meet your needs. The brochure I gave you has our website listed on the front, it’s just xaviersschool.edu; you’ll be able to find a comprehensive list of all our course and attendance options there.”  
There was a pause. “Wow, that’s, ah...very thorough of y’all. Ah’m not really sure what…”  
“Oh, please take your time to think it through. I know it’s a lot of information to take in at once, especially when you haven’t dealt with all this nonsense in awhile. For now, why don’t we set up a time for you to come shadow? I always recommend that prospective new students stay with us for a week to get a feel for the classes and the atmosphere. While you’re here, you’ll get to see each of the different tract options, so you can decide the best fit for you.”  
“A week? That’s a long while, Miz Grey. Ah’ve got work and Ah don’t think Logan can spare the money to put me up someplace fer that long, not to mention Ah haven’t got mah licence or nothin yet, so he’d haveta drive me down here and then…”  
Jean cut her off. “No worries at all. We have guest rooms in the main house for this exact purpose. There are also empty rooms in the girls dormitories, so you’d be welcome to stay there if you wanted to get a feel for the live-in atmosphere. And Mr. Logan would be welcome to stay here as well while you’re visiting. We have a small apartment building at the edge of our property for live in teachers and guardians who need to stay with their charges. If he would not be comfortable in a main house guest room, we’d be more than happy to open up one of the empty apartments for his use.”  
“That’s real generous of y’all. And Ah’d like to come down soon as possible, seein’ as the school year’s already started an’ all. But Ah’ll have to ask Logan bout it and get time off work, so Ah’m not sure just when we might make it down.”  
“That’s perfectly alright. My email is on the card I gave you. When you’ve had a chance to think it over, shoot me an email with a time that works for you and I’ll get it set up.”  
“Thanks a lot, Miz Grey. Ah ‘ppreciate how accommodating y’all’re bein’ fer me.”  
“Not at all, Miss Darkholme. We pride ourselves on meeting the needs of every student.”  
“Just Rogue, please.”  
“Rogue? Well, it was a pleasure talking with you, Rogue. I look forward to meeting you again. I really think you’ll love it here.”


	3. Xavier is, unsurprisingly, a genuinely decent human being. Logan is surprised. Unsurprisingly.

Rogue pulled her helmet off slowly, unable to pick her jaw up from where it had dropped to the floor when they pulled into the main house’s driveway. “Logan,” she whispered, sliding off his bike. “What the fuck?”  
He chuckled, pulling his own helmet off and swinging over the side of the bike. “I never got this close before either. It’s something, ain’t it?”  
The main house could be described, mildly, as a castle. And that didn’t even cover the huge dome peeking from behind it, whose purpose Rogue could only guess at, or the separate dormitory buildings. The massive grounds were spotted with varying sports courts, a pool, expansive training grounds, and a large open air eating space. The apartment building Jean mentioned could be seen peeking out from the back of the property. Near where a large pond streamed off into a fringe of trees, a half constructed building stood, which Rogue guessed was the new college course space.  
“Rogue! Mr. Logan!” Jean came quickly down the front steps of the freaking castle, smiling and waving. “It’s so wonderful to see you! I hope your trip down wasn’t too stressful?”  
Rogue coughed, shaking her head to get a grip on herself. “It was fine, Miz Grey. Lovely place y’all got here.”  
“Thank you so much. We’re always expanding.”

Logan snorted, kicking the bike stand out and stowing the helmets in the under seat compartment. Staring dispassionately at the ground, he pulled a cigar and lighter from his jacket. Ignoring whatever they were going on about, he unsheathed a claw, cut the end of his cigar off and lit up. Taking a long, slow draw, he turned his disinterested glare towards the sky and leaned against his bike.  
The sound was already deafening, laughing and talking, crying and coughing, children scampering this way and that, while adults yelled, electronics buzzed, dishes clattered. He inhaled smoke again, trying and failing to cover the stench of several hundred children in various stages of dirty to puberty. The hackles rose on his back the longer he stood in the open, unfamiliar space, the weight of curious eyes peeking through windows sending his lip upward in a half snarl.  
“Logan?”  
“Hnn?” He grunted, looking round to meet Rogue’s gaze.  
“Miz Grey said she’d take us round fer a tour. If you’d like?” Pleading green eyes met his disgruntled blue glare.  
He shrugged, grumbling under his breath. “Yeah, yeah, fine then, lead away Red.”  
Jean smiled at him. “Alright, let’s start with the main house then, shall we?”  
She led them up the stairs, Logan following reluctantly, his hands buried in his pockets. Rogue practically bounced after them, ignoring her companion's regular state of semi-constant homicidal intent.  
The smell was a veritable blow to the face as soon as the door opened. Old wood beams, carpets with decades of ground in crumbs, sweat and blood, bathroom water and a thousand types of food, unfamiliar people everywhere, on everything. Logan wrinkled his nose and took shallow breaths as Jean led them through a sea of children of all ages and states of cleanliness.  
“To our left here is the common area. It takes up almost the entire first floor, except for the kitchen on the right here and the mess hall just past it.”  
She gestured to the sprawling array of couches and tables, tvs and game consoles, all actively in use. A group of teens had commandeered a corner of easy chairs and were vainly trying to study over the racket a squad of ten year olds were raising over a game of Mario Kart.  
There seemed to be an endless stream of people in and out of the massive kitchen, which was open planned and led directly into the common area and a large room filled with cafeteria style benches.  
Jean laughed over the noise. “It’s always like this on Sundays. We have set meals three times a day, but the kitchen is open all hours.” She pointed toward the back wall as they picked their way across the massive room. “There are bathrooms on every floor by the stairs and elevator.”  
Logan puffed aggressively at his cigar. The violent clash of colors and light all around the room had prompted a painfully tight squint to protect his sensitive eyes, which quickly turned into a glower. It was enough of a deterrent that a five foot circumference of empty space had formed around him, no student wanting to get within arm’s reach.  
“Back when there were maybe 50 students here,” Jean continued as she mounted the stairs, students running past her in both directions. “All dorms and classrooms were in this building. But we expanded so much that we were running out of rooms to teach in. So we built the dorms and converted the main house entirely into school and office space.” She kept walking up when they reached the landing for the second floor. “This floor is all classrooms. You’ll see plenty of them this week.”  
Rogue leaned over the railing as they ascended the next flight of stairs, looking down onto the common area. “How many floors does this place have?”  
“Four full floors. Five if you include the attic storage space. Then there’s Ororo’s rooftop garden, which the students are welcome to visit, the basement area, and of course, the Danger Room out back is connected to the main house.”  
“Danger Room?” Logan cocked his head, intrigued despite himself.  
Jean smiled. “We’ll get to that.” She led them out onto the third floor and pointed down the hall. “This side are all classrooms. The other side has lab rooms and a small auditorium space for meetings and advanced lectures. Come on, back to our walk. I’m getting my cardio done early.” She winked at Rogue, who grinned back, clearly delighted so far.  
“The fourth floor is mostly library and office space, except for the Professor's room. He’s the only one who still lives in the main house.” She pointed down the hall. “His room is all the way at the end there and he’s available 24/7 if you ever need anything. He’s a lot closer to the students in the dorms than the other live in teachers. We’re all out in the apartments now.”  
They walked towards the other end of the hall and into a massive library. Floor to ceiling bookshelves, clusters of public computers and printers, sprawling tables covered in papers and half finished projects, and tired teens lounging in bean bag chairs filled the space. Logan wrinkled his nose. The semi-pleasant smell of slowly rotting old books warred violently with deodorant and coffee. A few students glanced up curiously, but their small group was mostly ignored.  
Jean clapped her hands together. “Okay, that’s everything you need to see in the main house. It’s just the admin office and the Professor’s office down there, which you don’t need to see. But, you are going to need to meet with Professor Xavier. We can do that now, or finish up our tour and then see him. Which do you prefer? It’s up to you if you’d like to wait until you’re more comfortable.”  
Rogue glanced at Logan, her scent spiking with sudden nervous sweat. “Ah guess we might as well just do it now. But why do Ah need to see him, Miz Grey?”  
Jean smiled reassuringly. “Professor Xavier is technically the headmaster, but in practice he’s pretty much the guidance counselor. He leaves most of the administrative work to Ororo, so he can meet with all the students at least monthly, and more often with new students. He advises everyone on what courses and tracts fit their needs and requirements and helps them with their abilities. He takes complaints and suggestions and passes them on to the staff. He really tries hard to ensure everyone gets the help they need.” She gushed, nearly reverently.  
Logan scowled. Unrealistically perfect authority figure at twelve o’clock. These types were never as good as they seemed. And Rogue wasn’t any less nervous, anxiety practically bubbling out of her as they exited the library and headed towards this oh so wonderful ‘Professor.’ Her discomfort was not doing anything to settle Logan’s already jumpy nerves. A strange place, stuffed with overpowering scents and deafening noise, unfamiliar, dirty children in every corner, and add on top of that a nervous ward? His hackles had gone up the moment he stepped into the building. Now, the tops of his hands itched as his claws fought to push out.  
Jean knocked on a thick oak door directly next to the once she’d previously identified as leading to the Professor’s bedroom. “Professor? It’s Jean. I’ve brought Miss Rogue Darkholme and Mr. Logan to see you.”  
“Ah, yes.” A deep, but mild voice called out. “Please come in. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you both.”  
The door swung in and while Logan hadn’t been expecting anything in particular, a pair of kind, dark eyes, the scent of old furniture, and a heart beating steady with honesty weren’t in his top ten most expected descriptors based on his experience with this kind of person. Maybe he wasn’t one of those kinds of people after all.  
The Professor was bald, classically handsome, and in a wheelchair, which explained the elevator. From his scent and the deep crows feet when he smiled up at them, he was somewhere in his late forties. Logan gave him a quick once over. His ability was definitely not physical, but he smelled like a mutant. Energy or mental then, probably very strong if he’s undisputedly in charge of several hundred mutants. Someone to be careful of. This observation did not improve Logan’s mood, but the Professor’s seemingly benign appearance had calmed Rogue somewhat, so that was a plus.  
“Please, take a seat.” He gestured to the armchairs in front of his desk. “This won’t take long, I promise. I hate to pull new students in for a boring talk in the middle of their tour. We’ll be briefly discussing your abilities and what you’re hoping to get from our school. Are you comfortable with Miss Grey being here?” He smiled kindly at Rogue, who’d frozen like a deer in headlights at the mention of abilities.  
Rogue opened and closed her mouth multiple times, trying to figure out what she wanted to say, before glancing at Logan, her big green eyes wide with helplessness. Logan grunted, crossing his arms. “Kid, you know Jeannie better than old chrome dome over there. You’re cool with her hangin round while he picks yer brain, right?”  
“Logan!” Rogue hissed in protest at his choice of words, glancing at Xavier. “Sorry, sir. But he’s right, Miz Grey can stay.”  
The Professor chuckled. “No offence taken. I’d very much prefer you say exactly what’s on your mind and be honest with me than beat around the bush.” He pushed the papers on his desk to one side and pulled out a different file. Jean took a seat by the desk, closer to Rogue than the Professor, and smiled reassuringly at her. “Now then, let’s get introductions out of the way. My name is Professor Charles Xavier. Most students here just call me Professor, but please feel free to call me whatever makes you comfortable.”  
“Um, Ah’m Rogue, and this is mah,” she paused, glancing sideways to where Logan was slouched in his chair, chewing on his cigar and staring irritably at the wall above Xavier’s head. “Very good friend, Logan.”  
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Xavier smiled brightly, opening the file. “Jean told me you were considering an out-student or internet only study option?”  
“Um, yes.” Rogue shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Logan again, but he pointedly avoided her stare, forcing her to speak. “Ah haven’t really had much schoolin recent like. Ah tried to keep up with some readin and such, Ah got a math practice book, haven’t forgotten mah Algebra. But Ah didn’t have transcripts or nothin and there’s only so much Logan could do. Ah mean, he did try!” Rogue jumped to his defence before Xavier could even say anything. “He got hold of some homeschoolin books fer me tah look o’er, tried tah get me enrolled someplace. But we were up so far and me not havin transcripts and him not havin…”  
Xavier held up a hand. “Rogue it’s all right. I’m positive you and Logan did your best with the resources you had. You’ve done amazingly well on your own. What I’m taking away is that you’re not sure you’ll be able to get back into school after so long, correct?”  
Rogue nodded, biting her lip and looking at the floor. “Ah’d like to finish up school. Ah just…”  
Xavier nodded. “And that is completely okay. If a slower paced out-student program is what you need, then that is exactly what we’ll do. All that I ask is that while you’re here with us, you give every type of tract option we have a fair chance. Keep an open mind, you may surprise yourself with what you enjoy, what works for you.”  
“Yes, sir.” Rogue looked up, squeezing her hands nervously between her legs.  
“Excellent. This week, primarily, you’ll be shadowing classes, getting a feel for what each tract has to offer. Do you need a slower or faster pace, do you need more emphasis on certain subjects, and how much focus do you need on ability control? For today, we’re going to put together some basic skills tests to see what level you’re at academically. Don’t panic!” He raised a hand as she opened her mouth to protest. “They won’t be graded at all, they’re just to lay some groundwork, give us a sense of where to start. We’re preparing the tests based on the transcripts we got from your previous school. If you don’t know an answer, that is completely okay. Just try to answer it and move on. But we’ll get you started on those after lunch, so you don’t need to worry about it now.  
Once we have an idea of where you are academically and what tract will work best for you, you and I can assemble a class list. We don’t just offer academic courses either. We have a very broad range of electives, vocational studies, and internship options. Anything you’re interested in, we have a connection who’ll be able to help. Those options are somewhat limited if you’re taking the internet only courses, but the out-student program doesn’t have any limitations, so long as you can come to campus at least bi-weekly to attend hands on classes. Do you have any questions so far?”  
Rogue looked practically dizzy with all the information just foisted upon her. “Uh, not yet.”  
Xavier nodded amicably. “If you have any, feel free to ask at any time. Now, onto the non-academic aspect. As you know, this is a school for mutant humans, and a very large part of what we do here is help our students learn to understand and control their abilities. Everyone’s power is unique and I’m here to help as much as I can, but we have a lot of students and I won’t always be able to help everyone individually. As such, we have a system where similar ability types are placed into classes with certain focuses. For example, mental type abilities, such as telekinesis, telepathy, pyromancy and the like start out with control classes focused on learning to put up mental barriers. Even though they’re different skills, they all stem from the mind, so they all need basic control over their own mind in order to control their power. Do you understand?”  
Rogue nodded. “But, Professor, Ah don’t, Ah mean Ah’m not…”  
“Take your time, think about it. All I need is a description of what you can do and what it feels like when you do it. You don’t have to go into detail if you’re uncomfortable. Just the basics are fine.”  
Rogue bit her lip, looking at Logan as she spoke, trying to avoid the Professor’s gaze. “Well, Ah think of it kinda like mah skin is, um, a sponge, Ah suppose? If Ah touch someone, Ah bring them into me, their strength, their memories, if they’re a mutant, their powers.” She started to tear up as she spoke, her foot tapping nervously. Logan kept his eyes on the wall, but gently rested his hand on her shoulder. “If Ah touch them fer too long, well um, Ah steal their mind. Ah don’t mean to!” She hurried to reassure Xavier, glancing at him quickly before dropping her teary gaze back towards Logan. “It just...happens, Ah can feel it suckin in, like a sponge takin in water, only it don’t stop, it don’t get full, it just keeps suckin till there ain’t nothin left to take. And Ah can feel them in mah head screamin to get out and Ah didn’t mean to, Professor, Ah swear all I did was touch him, Ah wasn’t tryna, Ah swear, Ah wasn’t…” She was hiccuping around every word, her cheeks scarlet with embarrassment, trying desperately to blink back the tears threatening to fall. Logan fought back the growl threatening to rise in his throat. If she cried for more than a minute more, he was going to start stabbing people.  
“My dear, I would never believe for a second that you tried to hurt anyone.” Xavier’s voice was achingly gentle, painfully sympathetic. “I need you to listen to me very carefully and take these words to heart. Mutations are a defense. The potential for mutations developed over time in the genetics of humans exposed to the changing powers and environments of our world. Your power is no different than the long fangs the wolf evolved to better hunt its prey. Your absorbent skin is no different than the dolphin’s echolocation. You have genes that caused you to develop a defense mechanism, a weapon to use to protect yourself and the people you care about. You have done nothing wrong. We are here to help you understand your power, because though it is a defense mechanism, it is so much stronger than a wolf’s teeth. And we have a moral responsibility to be more than the animal strength we possess. We have a responsibility to control our abilities and use them for their purpose. To protect. Ourselves and others.”  
Rogue nodded shakily, scrubbing at her eyes, and struggling to get her hiccups under control. Logan squeezed her shoulder firmly and pulled his hand away. He could smell her rising embarrassment; she didn’t need him smothering her. Or losing his mind and stabbing probably well meaning old men for making her cry.  
“There is no need to feel ashamed, my dear. Feeling pain over causing others hurt is the sign of a truly good person.” Xavier looked at her with such gentle compassion in his eyes that Logan had to glance away, feeling almost as though he were intruding.  
“Yes, Professor.” She hiccuped. “Ah’m sorry, just give me a moment.”  
As her breathing slowed, the Professor went on. “Would you be comfortable continuing this conversation or would you like to pick it up another day?”  
“Ah’m fine.” She shook her head. “Just thinkin bout it gets me all in a tizzy sometimes, Ah don’t mean to cause trouble.”  
Jean leaned forward. “You are so far from causing us trouble it’s laughable, Rogue. This is exactly what this meeting is for. We want to understand how strong your powers are, how they affect you and the people around you. We want you to tell us what they feel like because we want to help you. Don’t ever think you’re causing us problems. The more you tell us, the better. Okay?”  
Rogue still looked overwhelmed, struggling to breath slowly, but Logan could smell a sharp burst of dopamine rush trough her, tinging her sweat and the tears still in her eyes. A small smile tugged at her lips and she nodded. “Okay, okay. Ah’m good. What else didya need t’know, Professor?”  
Xavier smiled broadly at her. “You’ve been extraordinary, Rogue. I don’t need you to tell me anything else. I’m just going to summarize what I understand your ability to be and I want you to correct me if I get anything wrong, okay?”  
He picked up a pen and jotted down quick notes as he spoke. “Your skin acts as a conduit between you and anyone you touch. Through touch, you can absorb thoughts, memories, energy, physical strength, mutant abilities, and with prolonged contact, you can absorb their entire consciousness, drawing their mind from their body into yours. I would assume doing that would make any abilities they had permanently yours at the cost of having their living consciousness in yours. Does that sound right?”  
He continued on at her agreement. “In addition, I would assume the effect of having their energy and abilities drawn from them often leaves the other party weak or unconscious. Prolonged contact could result in coma or even death. And you have no means to stop your skin’s absorbing power?” Rogue nodded shakily.  
“Well, Miss Rogue, it seems to me that you have a very unique combination of physical and mental ability types. The power itself comes from your mind, but your only means of accessing your power is by initiating physical contact. Unfortunately, physical power types are entirely permanent. A mutant human with blue fur cannot change the fact that he has blue fur, no more than you can change the fact that your skin is and will always be a conduit to your mind’s ability. There is no way to ‘turn off’ skin. However,” He held up a hand at her crestfallen expression. “There is very much a way to ‘turn off,’ as it were, your mind. I am very sure that if you train your mind, you will be able to lower the potency of your skin’s absorption, and given time, possibly be able to cut off the flow of your power into your skin entirely. Any such measure would be temporary and linked entirely to your level of skill and focus, but it is doable.”  
“Really?” Rogue practically bounced in her seat, her face nearly cracking with the size of her delighted smile. “Truly? Ah could maybe, touch someone again?” She punched Logan’s shoulder, laughing delightedly. “Logan, Ah could maybe have a boyfriend!”  
“That’s your takeaway?” He raised an incredulous eyebrow, but she was too excited to care. He turned a seizing glare on the Professor instead. The man certainly seemed to know what he was talking about, but if he got the kid’s hopes up and then crushed them, Logan would crush his head. Xavier met his look evenly, as though he knew exactly what he was thinking and was very much willing to take that challenge.  
“Well, Rogue, that’s all I need from you today. I just wanted to get a baseline. Jean will finish your tour and get you set up in a room, then you and Logan can have lunch with us. Afterwards, I’d like you to get started on those assessment tests. No pressure, though. Any you don’t finish today can be done tomorrow. Do you have a preference over where you’d like to stay? There are a few guest rooms on the first floor, but there are also some open rooms in the girls dormitory if you’d like to get a feel for our live-in situation.”  
Rogue shrugged, clearly getting some whiplash from the emotional roller coaster this conversation had been. “Ah guess it’d be nice to try the dorm, but Professor, mah skin is…”  
“Of course. We have many students here who have restrictions because of their abilities. You’d have your own room and if you’re okay with it, we can announce the nature of your ability, so that no one touches you without thinking.”  
“That’d prob’ly be best.”  
“Just one last thing then.” Xavier turned his dark, knowing, too knowing, too kind eyes on Logan. “Will you be staying with us while Rogue is shadowing?”  
Logan’s hackles went up so fast he almost bolted right out of the chair. Instead, his teeth snapped down hard on his cigar, shearing the barely smoked thing in half. The shorn end dropped into his lap and he crushed the still smoldering bit in his fist. He didn’t even register Jean’s alarmed noise.  
Was that a treat? No, it was a harmless question. He was asking where I’m going to stay. He’s trying to watch me! Follow me! He’s threatening me! No, he’s not. He’s asking if I’ll be staying near the kid. Of course! This stranger thinks I’d leave the pup without protection? I’ll be right here, old man. I’ll be watching you! Calm the fuck down. He just wants to know if I need a room here or not. No way in fucking hell I’m staying in this hellscape of a garbage dump! Shoot me in the fucking eyes first!  
Logan crushed his thoughts back into the hole from whence they came, as he pulled the other end of the cigar from between his fangs, not bothering to hide the very obvious threat display. “I’ll be around, Prof.”  
Rogue proceeded to punch him in the shoulder and hiss at him under her breath to stop embarrassing her, but Xavier took Logan’s reaction with barely a blink. Then again, if the guy couldn’t handle Logan showing his teeth and making a vaguely stalkery type remark, he’d be concerned about him trying to handle a girl who could kill you with her skin.  
“Rogue, why don’t you head back down to the common area? Take more of a look around, check out the guest rooms down there, just to see all your options for while you’re staying here.” Jean suggested. “Don’t be shy about poking around. Look wherever you want. I need to compare notes with the Professor before I forget. I won’t be more than ten minutes.”  
Rogue seemed relieved to be given an excuse for a quick breather. “Sure! Thank ya, Professor. It was great ta meetcha!”  
He smiled. “I look forward to having you as a student, Rogue.” She grinned back, and quickly pulled a still scowling Logan out of the office, shutting the door behind her.


End file.
